Wounds
by CaptColdHasTheTARDIS
Summary: Just a little drabble that has been sitting on my computer and was meant to go somewhere, but never did. Forgive any of my errors, no copyright infringement intended. Enjoy


He had been sitting on the couch in the Bunker's den for so long there'd probably be a permanent groove in the cushion, if he had bothered to look, his head cradled in one hand leaning on the armrest and his knee bouncing at an alarming rate. Dean and Sam have been gone on a hunt not too far from their location, they said it would be in and out, just helping out some poor soul like they always did. That was two days ago. Sure he gave them a call, suggested he could wing it over there if need be, but Dean just waved him off, "Cas, we got this man, don't worry," he would say. Usually he got text updates from them both, keeping him informed about their progress but his cell hasn't beeped at him all day, his queries going unanswered. Maybe they were closing in on the subject….maybe something had gone wrong. He shook the thought out of his worried head as best he could, but he couldn't seem to dislodge the niggling feeling at the base of his brain that they could be hurt, lying somewhere where they couldn't reach for a haphazardly thrown gun or knife, left for dead.

Cas got up from his seat and there was indeed the angels shape emblazoned in the foam structure of the sofa, but he didn't notice as he made his way to the kitchen, maybe if he made himself something to eat it would take his mind off the boys for a bit. He walked up to the refrigerator and let his eyes wonder from picture to picture pinned to the door with little knick-knack magnets Dean had picked out while they were waiting at the cash register at the Safeway where they were picking up some groceries and supplies. It was just the two of them, Sam had deigned to stay home and do some research on an ancient tome he had found in a church when they were questioning the town-of-the-week's priest. He found it on his way to the lavatory and snuck it out under the blazer he wore as part of his FBI shtick, holding it to himself like treasure when he sat in the passenger side of the impala. Dean had raised a questioning eyebrow to which Sam answered with a flash of the leather-bound (he was hoping leather) book and a mischievous grin before stowing it away just as quickly as the father peeked into the driver side window, making Dean jump damn near out of his skin, "Oh was there something else you wanted to let us know padre?" Cas couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on his lightly freckled face, earning him a glare via the rear view mirror, shutting him up but not ridding him of his tight lipped smile.

When the priest finally said his goodbyes and Dean was putting the gear in reverse, he smacked Sammy on the shoulder with an admonishment of "Nerd!" before he turned his head to look out the back window to guide the car out of the parking lot. He wore an expression of annoyance on his face, but when he glanced at Cas his features softened in the harsh sunlight that filtered through the smudged glass, one corner of his mouth rising just slightly before letting out a sigh and facing forward to drive on.

The small smile stuck in his mind's eye as he reached for the handles and pulled open both doors to survey what was in stock. Not much by the looks of it, a random block of cheese here, odds and ends scattered about. How the hell did they survive? When he peeked into the freezer, the answer stared back at him in the form of microwaveable burritos, hot pockets, and pizza rolls. He shook his head dejectedly, when was the last time they had eaten a true home cooked meal? Probably not since they had first moved in. _Well that changes today_ he thought to himself as he shut the doors back up for the time being and reached into his coat pocket for his phone.

He had just started getting used to the touch screen phone Dean had bought him to replace his old flip, which he was quite fond of no matter how much it might have caused him frustration, frustration which paled in comparison to what he felt when this new one would twist his words when he tried writing simple messages. Lord-or somebody out there- knew how much fun the boys had with that. He typed in "Web Search" into the address bar to bring up its homepage and began searching for simple recipes he would be able to execute without too much trouble.


End file.
